


The Litany of Hatred

by reine_des_corbeaux



Category: The Favourite (2018)
Genre: F/F, Fantasizing, Horror, Implied Queen Anne/Sarah Churchill, Mind Games, Trick or Treat: Trick, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Violent UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:41:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27261421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reine_des_corbeaux/pseuds/reine_des_corbeaux
Summary: A beast stalks the palace. Sarah tells Abigail about it.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 15
Collections: Trick or Treat Exchange 2020





	The Litany of Hatred

**Author's Note:**

  * For [StripySock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StripySock/gifts).



“There are things,” Sarah said lightly, “that hunt in the castle at night. I’m sure you’ve heard them scratching and clawing.” 

Outside, the sky was purpling down into evening, the light bruised at the edges with stains and scatterings of darkness. Inside, there was a draught, but then again, there was always a draught. In her more melancholic moods, Sarah tended to think it was the breath of the beast. When she was in better sorts, and Anne in higher spirits, it was just the wind. This evening seemed to be shaping up to be a wind night, despite Anne’s ill-health, because Abigail seemed so despondent. It was only for that reason that she even told Abigail about the beast at all. 

“Things,” Abigail said, raising an eyebrow, her voice carefully without emotion. “Like in a children’s story?” 

“Things like beasts that eat people who ask too many stupid questions.” Sarah took a sip of her wine. “You should be careful where you step.” 

“I hadn’t realized the rabbits were so vicious.” 

Sarah had to laugh at that, even as it filled her with fury that Abigail can be so light about her station. Abigail’s always confidence followed her like a cloud of daggers, all of them pointed at Sarah, even when she, cat-like, put her verbal claws away. They both sat cat-like now, but though they hid their claws, they were present and always ready to be extended. 

They were always dancing on the knife’s edge, really, but mentioning the beast, Sarah thought, had been a particularly wise move on her part. Or perhaps an exceptionally short-sighted one. Either way, if Abigail became aware of its existence, there would certainly have to be some effect on her behavior. Maybe Abigail liked the idea of tooth and claw and fangs ripping flesh with the tenderness of a lover’s touch. Maybe that excited her the way it did Sarah. Sarah doubted it. But even with that doubt, she had to grudgingly admit that Abigail looked quite like a fitting meal for a beast-- sharp edges, pretty curves, wrapped in venom and cast-off gowns. 

Sometimes Sarah thought about flinging herself onto Abigail with her nails outstretched, to bite and scratch and mark her until she pulled away the innocent facade to find the viper underneath. Sometimes she wondered if Abigail thought the same things about her. She imagined crushing their lips together, merging the lust of the flesh and the lust of the body as they united. It might even be gratifying for both of them to satiate such hunger. Certainly, it would allow Sarah to put Abigail in her place, to make Abigail Sarah’s own creature, and keep her far away from Anne. 

“It’s not the rabbits. They’re all quite safe by the Queen. And besides, the beast doesn’t eat rabbits. It prefers prettier meals.” 

Abigail’s eyes gleamed in the firelight, almost like a hunting creature’s herself.  
“Prettier meals. Like pretty girls? Or something rather more tired and bitter?” 

It was a blow meant to wound, but Sarah only smiled, taking a sip of her wine. She refused to allow Abigail the pleasure of even a glancing strike. 

“Meals the Queen decides are suitable for it,” Sarah said. “The beast is particular about what it’s fed with. And it wanders the halls until it finds something it likes.” 

“Rather like a disgraced second son looking for heiresses.” Abigail laughed lightly. 

“Or a poor relation.” 

That struck Abigail, clearly. Her face wrinkled up for a moment in a truly unbecoming manner that wasn’t quite a flinch, but she composed herself soon enough. Abigail resumed her placid, pleasant smile, but there was a darker fury in her eyes now. Sarah would have been lying if she said she wasn’t pleased by that. 

“Poor relations might be better at staying out of the way of beasts than disgraced second sons,” Abigail replied. “There’s a certain beneficial awareness you get from that sort of upbringing. Either you get eaten, you get fucked, or you claw your way out of the pit.” 

_I’m sure you would know all about that. But you won’t claw your way up to Anne unless I let you. She’s my queen. Mine,_ Sarah thought. She smiled back again, and thought about kissing Abigail hard enough to leave bruises, being rougher with Abigail than she’d ever dare dream of being with Anne. 

“I don’t doubt that,” Sarah said at last. “But this is a very clever beast.” 

“If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you were talking about yourself.” 

Sarah looked long and hard at Abigail, keeping her fixed in her sight. Abigail didn’t shiver. 

“The beast is real. Be careful, or it might come after you. Depending on your proximity to the Queen, of course.” 

“I’ll be careful. And keep an eye out for beasts. Even if they do tend to avoid the Queen.” 

“The beast doesn’t avoid the Queen,” Sarah said. “It’s the Queen’s beast. The kings of England 

always have them. It’s their duty to feed them. I think it has been for several centuries. Probably not as far back as six hundred years ago, but likely for at least two hundred years. It has a particular fondness for certain members of the court,” Sarah continued, smirking. Abigail’s face did not change. 

Now was the choice, really, in this legend that was a reality. The wind blew down the chimney with a sudden whistle, but neither of them moved. Abigail’s lip curved at last into a hungry smile, and Sarah quite suddenly realized that she knew exactly what she was thinking. It was only to be expected, really, that one would believe the beast might consume the loser in their little game. And there was no need to disabuse Abigail of such a notion, especially not now, especially not if she was determined to become ascendent. No need at all to tell her that the beast had its own needs in eating, undirected by the Queen, and that, in the end, it always consumed the favourite. 

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween! I was really taken with your idea for a horror AU for this film and kind of just had to write it. Hope you enjoy! 
> 
> This fic shares its title with Renée Vivien's poem "Litanie de la Haine".


End file.
